Show Me The Bacon

Food

July 20, 1997|By KAREN MAMONE

In one of Martin Mull's more memorable song stylings, he pined that ``My heart's achin' for that thing next to bacon.''

Not me, boy. Gimme the bacon. Gimme that glorious wake-up-it's-sunny smell of artery-clogging, crisp and, yet, tender, salty-and-sweet-all-at-the-same-time bacon. We all talk about healthy food, a co-worker confessed recently, that she cooks up bacon and eggs just about every Sunday morning for her family.

Bacon must be the No. 1 guilty pleasure in the land, sort of like Catholics and contraception everyone knows the official line but does it anyway. Me, I give in on a regular basis. And none of that turkey-rasher stuff or the fancy Canadian so-called bacon. No, I want the stuff that shrinks to half-nothing and cracks delicately under the pressure of a slice of white toast.

Heck, I even love bacon fat. It's a culinary ingredient that far outpaces the French love for goose fat. A leftover boiled potato, diced and sizzled in bacon grease, that's heaven. And it's practically impossible to start a fish or vegetable chowder without a few slices melting in the bottom of a stew pot, with a sliced onion or two.

Never being much of a breakfast fan, I suppose I'd consider the BLT the apogee of bacon eating. To be really evil, I'd plop the hot bacon undrained on the Hellmann-topped bread and let that all sort of melt together. I'd easily be persuaded to add maybe a sliver of blue cheese or a slice of avocado.

Second would come hot bacon dressing, one of those terrific hot potato salad numbers, or to douse raw spinach or spring dandelions. Or maybe in a frittata with sauted potatoes and onions, or in spaghetti carbonara, where even the fattier pancetta has the cache of trendy cuisine.

And if our virtue seems embattled, bacon even bails us out on that score. It's so intense and aromatic that even a touch satisfies. You can practically think of it as a flavoring (I don't mean in the baco-bit sense): two slices cut up for fried rice or three or four slices for corn chowder or an impromptu soup of leftover cauliflower pured with a little milk and scallions.

Here's an old-fashioned treat equally suited to the first porch supper of the year or by the fire on a rainy afternoon. Serve it with cold meat or ham or even with real steamed franks or grilled kielbasa.

Hot Potato Salad

4 medium potatoes, cut in half

4 slices bacon, cut into 1-inch pieces

1 medium onion, chopped

1 tablespoon each sugar and flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon celery seed

Dash black pepper

1/2 cup water

1/4 cup vinegar (ordinary white or cider, or white wine)

Scrub or peel (whichever you prefer) the spuds and boil in salted water until tender but not falling apart. Set aside until cool enough (but still warm) to cut into quarter-inch slices.

Cook the bacon in a 10-inch skillet until crisp. Drain the bacon with a slotted spoon and set aside, but leave the fat in the pan. Saut the chopped onion until tender, but not colored.

Stir in the flour, sugar, salt, celery seed and pepper. Cook over low heat, stirring all the time, until bubbly. Remove from heat and add the water and vinegar. Now put back on stove and heat to boiling, still stirring constantly.

Boil a minute. Remove from heat and add potatoes and bacon pieces. Stir gently to coat. Garnish with parsley or scallions. Enough for six.